


AKA Motherly Instincts

by Tardisee



Category: Jessica Jones (TV)
Genre: Unplanned Pregnancy, post season one
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-16 02:46:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5810599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tardisee/pseuds/Tardisee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trish's mom shows up and ruins everything like she usually does. Jessica learns a secret about Trish and helps her cope with it</p>
            </blockquote>





	AKA Motherly Instincts

I hold Trish by the shoulders and she’s crying. Her mother just looks over at us as Trish crumbles to the floor.

“Trish, what is it? What?” I say, and immediately regret how demanding it sounds to her in such a fragile state. 

“What, you don’t know?” says her mother, calmly. She was suck a fucking snake “Guess you’re not as close as you thought she was.” 

Trish gets up, almost walks right over me. And then I hear her say it. 

“I may not be the best mother, but I will make an amazing grandmother.” 

Panic slowly warms my entire body and I look to see Trish open the balcony door. I know what she is doing, and I run to stop her. 

We’re both outside and she yells, just as I am about to reach for her “Don’t come any fucking closer to me, Jessica! I will do it” 

I try to slow my breathing; I try to form words but it feels like I have a wad of cotton in my mouth. I can’t speak, I only know I don’t want to lose her. “Trish, please” I manage to push out and I can feel hot tears dripping down my face and I don’t even care enough to wipe them. 

“I can’t have Simpson’s baby!” she shouts, standing over the edge of the rail and looking down “I can’t be a mom! I can’t be like her.” 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay” I soothe her by talking softly, now was not the time for Tough Jessica “Have the baby. Don’t have the baby. I will back you no matter what. But…please…” and I can’t even form the words to tell her that even if she didn’t want the baby, it was not worth losing her life over. I couldn’t bear to tell her that even if she kept the baby she would never, ever be anything like her mother. And we would do everything to keep her away from it, even if I had to throw her over this balcony myself. 

I extend my hand and I’m shaking. Trish looks back at me and then back down. Before I can give her the chance to decide I grab her hand and pull her back to where we both stumble back on the balcony. 

Dammit, I shouldn’t have done that. I forgot about the baby. 

I shake off my guilt and put my arms around my sister who is crying hysterically. I don’t know how we are going to manage with a baby, or without a baby, or just with an entire cloud of guilt, but I would not let her mother fuck this up for her. 

“How lovely, the two train wrecks crying for the whole neighborhood to see” says Trish’s mom. 

I want to punch her so hard she dies. I want to throw her body so it crashes through two walls. I want to hurt her just as much as she’s hurt Trish. I stand up and act as a protective barrier between her and Trish. 

“Get out.” I tell her in a low growl. 

“Oh please” She says, as if I simply told her the sky was blue “You can’t tell me to leave, this is Trish’s house. Now, Trish, honey do you want me to leave?” 

“Get out or I will throw you the fuck out.” 

“You don’t have to do that” She says with a smirk “I’ll see myself out.” 

She slowly walks out of the building, like the fucking snake she is. Like she just won. 

I turn to Trish, who is still silently sobbing on the balcony. 

“Trish, listen to me, you don’t have to decide to do anything you don’t want to do. I’m serious. You don’t even have to decide right now. You wanna keep this baby? We will move so fucking far away that she will never find us. And if you don’t, we’ll roll with that too.” 

Trish is still sobbing, muttering to herself “I’m not her. I’m not her.” 

I knelt down to her and grabbed her shaking hands “Breathe.” I told her, and she coughs while trying to take in a huge breath. 

“It’s okay, breathe.” 

She inhales, slowly this time, letting her breath return to normal. And I hold her for what feels like hours, right there on that balcony, until she stops crying. 

“But if it’s a girl, we are NOT naming her Jewel!” 

Trish laughs.


End file.
